03 07AU 42
by NewDrWhoFan
Summary: It's "42" and a good deal extra with Rose... 10Rose.
1. Tired

_The Series 3 AU with Rose continues! This is a sequel to my stories from "The Girl in the Stalking Spaceship", to "Doomsday Averted", all the way through the AU Series 3 up until "The Lazarus Experiment"._

_These first couple of chapters are dedicated to **lyin'** for the long-ago suggestion of something "ala Age of Bronze and the alien laundry". It's not quite an alien laundry, but here's some more fun taking place outside of the normal stream of episodes :)_

_Beta'd by **GSRgirlforever**. Thanks!_

_Disclaimer: Surprise, surprise, I don't own Doctor Who. Nor do I get anything from writing these stories-except wonderful, constructive reviews! Wink, wink; nudge, nudge ;)_

* * *

**Chapter 1 - Tired**

Once upon a time, Rose Tyler had decided that keeping things casual with the Doctor would be the best way to go. A friendly hug here, a friendlier kiss there, that would be her sneaky way of showing him how she felt, but without having to come out and say it, and likely scare him off back into his shell. She'd keep things friendly, spontaneous, and not give him the chance to think himself out of it.

So, really, she had no one to blame but herself.

The Doctor had jumped with both feet into their increased familiarity, but he never pushed at the boundaries. Never! It was always her move. Or, at least she had to set the precedent. He'd surprise her, kiss her out of the blue, but only because she'd already done it to him.

What it boiled down to, she realized, was that she was getting tired of him leaving her at her door.

She glared at her bedroom door as if her current frustrations were entirely its fault, rather than her own. Only a few minutes earlier, he had been snogging her against that door. Now, he was off who knew where in the TARDIS, after having chivvied her off to bed, all excited about whatever new adventure he had planned.

Either he was a master of his own secret feelings and desires, or the Doctor really just wasn't interested in more than kissing for the fun of it. Her mind flashed back to a certain conversation about dancing. "Nine hundred years old, me," he'd said. "I've been around a bit. I think you can assume that at some point I've danced." Although at the time they had both treated the discussion quite literally, later comments made about (and by) Jack had her thinking there were other implications.

As Rose turned from the offending door to perform her nightly regimen, she wondered. Maybe things like that changed with regeneration. Maybe, while the Doctor would have flirted with the idea before, now he was just interested in flirting with her for the entertainment value. It certainly _felt_ like all the looks she'd caught him giving her back then were finally being fulfilled, but maybe it was somehow different. She hated thinking along those lines, distinguishing between Doctors, but it was a fact that even now, every now and then, a little thing would catch her off guard. A little change that she hadn't noticed, a small altered behavior or preference that hadn't come up before. It didn't change how she felt for him, not one iota, but it did remind her to recheck her assumptions.

And it did, occasionally, pique her curiosity. Like earlier, with his hair.

Rose flopped onto her pillow with a sigh, then took a couple of cleansing breaths. She laughed at herself. Just a little chuckle, but it helped to snap her out of it. What was she complaining about? Here she was, living on the TARDIS, spending her life traveling the universe with the love of her life (her heart did clench a little at that), a new adventure around every corner, and she was worrying about make out sessions? Was she sixteen? She laughed again. No, she was twenty-, um, twenty-two or -three. She'd have to ask the Doctor. But the point was, she was mature enough to have realistic priorities. And she was not about to tell him to put a ring on her finger or drop her off home-or, somewhere she could make a home...

It wasn't about snogging, although that was a rather wonderful development, but, no. It was about how close they'd become. They liked living life together. They challenged and completed each other. Granted, they weren't one hundred percent honest with each other yet, or he'd know exactly how she felt about him. But she did try to show him, even if she was too scared to volunteer the information aloud.

And she knew that he loved her, even without the Three Little Words. He might not come out and say it all romantically, he might not even feel romantic about it for all she knew, but he showed her every day that it was there and it was real. "I'd choose you, too," he had said, about having to pick between her or the TARDIS.

And she would always choose him. She wasn't being stubborn, or even desperate. She knew she was strong enough to live life-and make a good life-on her own if she had to. But the simple fact was that she loved him. Regardless of how he felt or didn't feel for her, that fact remained.

She'd always choose him.

She closed her eyes, surprisingly calmed at last. "I'd prefer the both of you," Rose spoke quietly to the ship as she burrowed into her bed covers with a small smile.

The lights blinked a little before dimming on their own.

* * *

The Doctor was getting tired.

Oh, he'd had plenty of sleep. He must have caught about ten hours in the past week. No, that wasn't the problem.

The problem, he realized, was that he was getting tired of leaving Rose at her door.

He wanted to spend what time they had, well, he didn't want to waste it. He wanted her with him always. Maybe a few minutes' privacy here and there, but this six, seven, eight hours a night was getting on his nerves. Granted, she'd been leaning more towards the six rather than the eight, and their days seemed to be closer to twenty-five or -six hours than her native twenty-four. But still! She was in that room, just behind that door, while he was out here in the console room, keeping a respectful distance while he plotted...

Ah, yes, the plotting. Focus on that. Never mind what inspired the plotting: holding her, kissing her goodnight, her fingers in his hair and bubbling laughter...

Right, plotting.

Should he wear a disguise? He couldn't remember seeing himself. Maybe that was because he was disguised. Or, maybe it was just because of Rose...

He shook himself, triple-checked the coordinates, and felt a small thrill at the prospect of completing this little circular paradox.

No matter how nervous he was about how she'd react to it.

To him.

* * *

_To be continued._

_Sorry if it seems like a teaser opening, but I thought it was needed, and the next chapter is already going to be long enough without balancing this on its head. _


	2. Sentimental

_You get a quick update, because the chapter went and divided itself again. This story's making itself a lot longer than I first envisioned, but I hope it's all for the best!_

_Un-beta'd because I'm probably as impatient as y'all are..._

* * *

**Chapter 2 - Sentimental**

Rose woke, washed, and dressed, now quite refreshed and genuinely excited for whatever the Doctor had planned for them. She felt like she was back to her old self, all of her confusion and frustrations having been slept away.

Something casual, the Doctor had told her. She laced up her trainers and jumped up from her bed. However, before she left her room she glanced back at her closet. Her blouse was a bit light, maybe she should grab a jacket, and she had a nice one sitting in the back...

So it was leather? Didn't mean she was indulging in reminiscences about how the Doctor used to be or anything. It was a short little blue thing. Entirely different from what the Doctor once wore.

She shrugged into the jacket. With a small, guilty twinge, but absolutely no remorse, Rose stepped out into the corridor.

Without any idea of their agenda, she decided she could use at least a coffee as fortification against what the Doctor might have in store. Detouring towards the kitchen rather than the console room, Rose could already smell the hot brew before she walked through the door.

The TARDIS took such good care of them.

She made to grab her mug from beside the coffee pot. Rose glanced at the sugar bowl and smiled.

Maybe this _was_ a day for reminiscing, after all.

She couldn't help but think of the first time she and the Doctor had gotten around to having an early-morning coffee. "Just milk," he'd requested, then proceeded to spew his first sip right back into his mug, wordlessly pour himself another cup, and fill it nearly half full of sugar.

She'd been surprised at his indecisive coffee preferences, and asked if it was his first time drinking it or something. He'd given her some confusing line about "this time 'round", and left it at that. It wasn't until after the Gamestation that she realized his tastes must have changed since regenerating.

"Could'a told me back then," Rose murmured aloud, bringing her steaming mug to her lips.

"Told you what?" the Doctor asked from behind her.

She managed not to burn herself and to only spill a little coffee as she whirled around to find him lounging in the kitchen doorway.

He was back to wearing his usual suit, and Rose had to admit (to herself) that the tux didn't really do all that much. She was head-over-heels for him whatever clothes he had on. Whichever face, too, for that matter.

Rose grabbed a napkin to wipe at a the few drops of coffee now splattered on the sleeve of her jacket. Her earlier feelings of guilt and sneakiness over the garment had evaporated, seeing him here and realizing how comfortable she really was with him being the same person. She wasn't cheating, she was just a little... sentimental.

"Mornin'" Rose greeted, expertly evading his question. They'd already gone over it, and he'd apologized more than enough. She stepped aside to allow him access to the coffee, and watched, bemused, as he poured and sipped at a mug completely free of additives. His tea had to have the perfect balance of milk and sugar, but nothing could contaminate his morning coffee.

This time 'round, Rose mentally added with a grin.

"Good morning," the Doctor finally replied, leaning back against the counter after having had a few swigs from his own cup.

He was grinning at her, and she found it rather infectious. She noted he was wearing his overcoat already. "So, are we headin' right out, or breakfast first?" she asked.

"I'm taking you out for breakfast," he answered, smiling, watching her over the brim of his mug as he took another sip.

They drank their coffees in silence for a few moments, Rose waiting futilely for him to volunteer any further information.

Finally, Rose narrowed her eyes at him. "Not bein' suspicious at all, are ya?" she observed, finishing her drink and rinsing the mug in the sink.

Before she had time to register that he had moved, the Doctor's mug was beside hers, and she was being dragged by the hand out of the kitchen, through the console room, and out through the TARDIS' doors.

He stopped as soon as they had stepped outside, and she skidded to a halt beside him. It was sunny, but Rose had been right to bring a jacket. "'Kay?" she prompted, squeezing the Doctor's hand. "When an' where?"

"Guess," he answered, stepping off again and pulling her along down a busy city street.

"Looks like earth, but that doesn't mean much," Rose observed.

"It's earth," he allowed.

"'Kay, twenty-first century, or another retro period?" Rose asked.

"Twenty-first century," he told her, stubbornly refusing to volunteer anything further.

"London?" she asked, finally voicing her initial impression.

"You guessed it," he said.

Rose detected a familiar aroma. "Mmm, I smell chips," she announced, her stomach grumbling hungrily.

"That you do!" the Doctor confirmed, then tugged on her hand. "C'mon," he invited, breaking into a run.

"Y'know," Rose laughed as they weaved among the pedestrians, "I haven't got the local currency any more."

"My treat," the Doctor answered with a wink, as he brought them up outside of a familiar chippy.

"Is this..." Rose trailed off. She could swear...

"First date, remember?" the Doctor said, and she half expected his face to split from the enormous grin he was wearing.

She just shook her head as he led them up to the counter, purchased their meal, and selected a table for their breakfast. It really did sum up their scheduleless lives so well, having breakfast at a chippy.

She just hadn't expected him to make such a sentimental selection as this particular shop.

Rose took a seat, noticing that the Doctor waited for her to get settled before claiming the chair across the table from her, his back to the door.

"S'what's the occasion?" she asked. "This our time travellin' anniversary or somethin' I should know about?"

"Oh, we're well past the anniversary. First one, anyway," he answered, smile undimmed.

Rose remembered her earlier confusion about just how old she was now. She was about to ask the Doctor, when the door to the restaurant opened.

She looked up, and her breath caught when she saw the couple that entered.

It really was their first date.

* * *

_To be continued._


	3. What Comes Around Goes Around

_As promised, a nice, long chapter, chock full of fun._

_Once again, un-beta'd._

**

* * *

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**Chapter 3 - What Comes Around Goes Around**

"It's us," Rose whispered.

The Doctor couldn't help the feeling of elation at her choice of words. Not, "It's him", but, "it's us".

He didn't need to look over his shoulder or ask what she meant. The whole point of them coming here was so that she could meet his former self, now, on his own terms.

He had, admittedly, been rather nervous. He'd wondered what she would think, seeing the two of him together. Would she want him to change back - again? Had she ever really gotten over that? Had she really accepted that he's the same man?

Is that why he had been hesitating so long with his proposal?

She'd said "us", he thought happily.

"What're ya playin' at?" Rose whispered sharply across the table at him, snapping him out of his musings.

The Doctor sat back from her, actually scraping his chair across the floor in his surprise.

He'd seen the look in her eyes before, but never directed at him. That look was reserved for funeral directors with wandering hands, princes who thought harem girls made fun toys for half-starved wild animals, would-be suitors who upset her Mum - utterly heedless of looming Abzorbaloffs.

"What?" the Doctor asked, defensively. "It's fine."

Rose glanced over her shoulder, and the Doctor saw their past selves ordering chips at the counter.

He smiled a little wistfully, remembering their "first date", as they'd dubbed it.

His Rose whipped back around to face him, and he quickly schooled his features. "It's not fine," Rose told him emphatically. "What happened to all that about paradoxes and Reapers?" she demanded. "An' you_ said _it's worse when there's two of you!" There were tears starting in her eyes, the complete opposite of what the Doctor had intended.

"That's different," he answered quietly. He moved to cover her hand on the tabletop with his own, but she snatched it back and gripped the edge of the table. "Honest, Rose, this is completely different. We're not causing a paradox, we're just in one."

She raised a disbelieving eyebrow at him, then ducked her head as their younger selves passed by the table to find seats by the front window.

"Really, it's not that bad," he persisted, tentatively reaching a hand across to her.

She slowly released her grip on the table and returned her full attention to him. "How's it not?" she asked, allowing him to take her hand.

"I've run into myself loads of times," he told her, comfortingly. "It's a little bit easier when it's two or more different regenerations." He rethought that statement. "Well, maybe not easier, a little trickier, actually-" Rose glared at him. "What happened to living dangerously?" he deflected. "Besides," he finally admitted, "I remember us being here. Everything we're doing already happened."

He saw her anger and fear instantly take a back seat to curiosity. He couldn't help but smile at that. She was amazing.

* * *

"Explain," Rose told the Doctor slowly. She wasn't entirely sure he wasn't just making it up to get out of trouble.

"It's a _circular_ paradox," he said. "Something that only happens because it's already happened."

She narrowed her eyes. She had been paying attention during his lectures on causality, whether he believed her or not. "That doesn't make-"

He cut her off with a wave of his free hand. "You're worrying about causality," he said. "Doesn't apply here. Timelines can get a little wibbley-wobbly when you've got a TARDIS, but it's alright. Time Lords can tell the difference and see when it's safe or when something's really off. And," he added, "I'm at the right end of it to not only recognize the circular paradox, but to know just how it closes."

She wanted to believe him, she absolutely did. When she'd realized what had happened with her Dad, that had been awful. And that was just because of a childish whim. Which brings up the point, she thought, "Why're we here, then?"

"Then, or now?" the Doctor asked, grinning.

Rose sighed, allowing a small smile. He couldn't really be this comfortable if there were something terribly wrong. "I mean, now," she clarified. "Why're you bringin' me back here to when we're sittin' there over our first plate of chips?"

He released the hand he'd been holding and sat back, giving her a cryptic smile. "Because you asked," he said, simply.

She had learned by now to recognize when the Doctor was through giving hints. Rose rolled her eyes, but took the opportunity to really look over at her old, younger Doctor and herself.

She was first embarrassingly struck by her younger self's appearance: not only incredibly young-looking, but eyes drowning in mascara; dark roots clearly showing in her fashionably-layered, bleached hair. She fingered her own hair, cut evenly, just below her shoulders, done to the roots and in much softer tones. She glanced down at her outfit, so much more practical and in line with her own tastes than the popular clothes on the nineteen-year-old across the chippy from her. When had all this happened? She didn't remember changing.

But speaking of changes, she shifted her gaze to the Doctor. He was so different from how she remembered that him. This wasn't the man she had gotten to know so well, this was the alien who had only just asked her to take a ride because she'd saved his life. All of his burdens were still bundled up and hidden away. He hadn't yet tried and failed to save the Gelth, tried and failed to kill what he thought was the last Dalek, taken her hand so many times under so many suns and moons and made her fall hopelessly in love with him...

Suddenly, the Doctor's last comment seemed to penetrate her consciousness. "Because you asked." What had she asked? She hadn't asked for chips; this would be a real stretch for that, anyway. She hadn't asked to see herself; had she asked to see the Doctor? This Doctor?

Ah.

She'd asked, she'd wondered what it would've been like to have gotten her hands on the last him's hair, hadn't she? Last night? Before he came up with his surprise adventure and left her at her door...

She could feel her Doctor's eyes on her.

Did he really bring her here so that she could... he was grinning. She got the feeling that he did.

"You said you remember us bein' here?" she asked. He nodded. "_What_ do you remember?"

"Hmm?" the Doctor asked, innocently.

She wasn't sure which surprised her more: the fact that he'd actually planned all this, or the fact that she was actually considering going along with it. "So anything I do," Rose asked, "I've already done, and it won't affect any timelines, or bring down any Reapers, or anythin'?"

"I can absolutely and unequivocally assure you of that. Perfectly safe," he told her.

Rose glanced back over as her younger self stood and excused herself to use the loo. She remembered this. She remembered hiding in the stall and trying to calm her fears and excitement, amazed that this man had come into her life. She remembered a sudden panic that she'd let him out of her sight for too long, and that he'd probably be gone by the time she got back to the table. She remembered coming back and finding quite an odd expression on his face. Now, she was pretty sure it was exactly what it had looked like, no alien misinterpretation involved.

Now or never, Rose told herself. Watching her present-day Doctor out of the corner of her eye, she got up and walked determinedly over to the other Doctor.

He glanced up at her as she came to a halt beside his bench seat. "Rose?" he asked. Rose supposed he was surprised that she'd returned from the loo so quickly. She was rather pleased that all of the differences she'd spotted between herself and her younger self didn't seem to register with the Doctor.

She waited just a heartbeat until it was clear from the almost imperceptible widening of his eyes that the realization had struck that she was a different, future Rose. Before he could question her - or she could lose her nerve - she climbed in beside him on the bench, grabbed the lapels of his leather jacket (a much more noticeable widening of the eyes, here), and snogged him for all she was worth.

She knew she had to stay focused, that she only had a limited window here before another Rose was due to come back and finish their chips (after the Doctor would tell her he wasn't hungry for chips), but the Doctor wasn't making it easy. She had expected some surprise or hesitation on his part, but he had almost instantly complied with her rather obvious intentions.

Some part of her realized that she was kissing this Doctor more desperately and passionately than she'd ever kissed her Doctor - yet, she hoped. She supposed it was in part due to the freedom of the circular paradox, in part due to her guilt over ever having made him regenerate (no matter how much he insisted it was his choice), in part a response to how fresh she knew the pain of the Time War was for this Doctor, and in part a secret desire to try (circular paradox or not) to kickstart their closer relationship just a bit earlier.

More out of habit than because of any plan she had made, she actually did manage to get her hands quite thoroughly on his hair.

Finally regaining some measure of focus and composure, Rose eventually broke the kiss.

"Rose," he gasped, as she sat back and he opened his eyes to meet hers.

She took just a moment to re-memorize that blue gaze, then quickly kissed him once more. "Thanks, I needed that," she whispered in his ear, then hastily disentangled herself from him, and fled the chippy before her counterpart could discover her.

* * *

When he'd run into a future Rose, so soon after first meeting her in his own timeline, the Doctor had assumed that at some point in his future she would leave him, or he would have to leave her. The meeting in the chippy actually inspired the emergency programs he'd recorded, and he'd thought he was fulfilling the circular paradox he'd spotted back there when he sent her home from the Gamestation.

Since her return, the Doctor couldn't imagine ever sending her away like that again, and not in _any_ way since his attempt at sending her to the alternate universe.

The only thing he could think of, then, and he tried not to think of it too often, was that he was doomed to lose her sometime, somehow, completely against his will.

Hence, his immense relief when she unwittingly suggested this very meeting, now, with him. He was the one who would take her back to meet himself. He wouldn't have to lose her, she was just stopping by to say hello. And they would continue their life together, unencumbered by supposedly fated separations.

Of course, as he watched his Rose dash out of the door to the chippy just as young Rose emerged from the loo, there was a small part of his ego that was still a bit concerned. Now that he thought about it, his Rose hasn't actually kissed him anything like the way she was just kissing his ninth self.

And he could remember it like it was yesterday.

Like it was just a minute ago, actually.

The Doctor followed Rose from the shop, discreetly stealing a glance through the front window at their younger counterparts. Oh, the look on his face. He hadn't meant to be that obvious, but maybe Rose hadn't known him well enough back then to see it.

The Doctor turned the corner towards where he had parked the TARDIS, and saw Rose leaning against the blue police box. She looked up at him with a shy grin as he approached. "So that really happened?" she asked. "Before, I mean?"

"Oh, yes," he said, taking just a minute longer to revel in the memory.

"But you never said; you never did anythin' about it," Rose said, as the Doctor unlocked the TARDIS. "'Though, come to think of it," she added as he opened the door for her, "you did look like you wanted to a couple of times."

Being a time-traveler, there is always the chance of meeting someone out of order, including complete strangers who kiss you seemingly out of the blue. Considering that they very well might become someone you'll want to be kissing or at least acquainted with, he had adopted as standard practice a polite response to such assaults. But with Rose, there had been something there already, something he'd been astounded to recognize after knowing her for such a short time, something that made him eagerly reciprocate when this Rose had appeared in the chippy.

Something that made him yearn for more than he thought he'd ever deserve.

"Well, it wasn't you, was it?" he asked, amazed that that something seemed to finally be within his reach. He followed her in and up the ramp. "I couldn't just -"

"What?" she prompted, turning to face him with just that little bit of tongue teasing the corner of her smile. She backed her way up the ramp as the Doctor closed the doors behind him. "I'm me now, Doctor," she invited, trailing a hand along the console when she came to it.

He grinned. No more waiting, he thought, and moved quicklly up the ramp after her, eager to accept her invitation, regardless of his own fears and mildly wounded ego.

Fortunately for said ego, he found that the enthusiasm of her earlier kiss was now rather seamlessly transferred to this him.

* * *

They were on the captain's chair. Actually snogging on the captain's chair in the console room of the TARDIS. It was just as wonderfully awkward as Rose had imagined, and she'd imagined a lot.

When his lips finally did leave hers, it was to kiss his way down her neck. "You could've," she breathed, somehow managing to answer his last, unfinished comment.

"I'm so glad you're still here," he said, between kisses.

"Where would I go?" Rose asked. When he was silent, she asked, "Whaddya mean? Doctor?"

He pulled back slightly, then rested his forehead against hers. She stroked the side of his face, until he looked her in the eye. "When I saw you back then," he said, "I couldn't guess how you were there. The best explanation I'd come up with was that you'd somehow gotten stuck in your past, and were just saying hello as I passed by. I thought you'd either left me on your own... or that I must have lost you," he admitted.

"So, all this time," she asked, shifting more upright once she had taken this in, "you've been waitin' for me to disappear?"

He nodded, guiltily, standing by the chair to allow her some space. But then he smiled, looking her in the eyes. "But you're here!" he exclaimed, and scooped her up, bridal style. He kissed her again, and she realized he was simultaneously initializing the dematerialization sequence. "That finally happened, and you're not stuck," he said, setting her back down on the captain's chair. He was absolutely beaming as he backed to the console to throw the last lever. "You're with me, and it's just about perfect."

_Just about?_ Rose wondered as he put them into the Vortex.

As soon as they had dematerialized, the Doctor stepped away from the console, still beaming at her. His eyes had her fixed to the spot as he reached for something in his suit's breast pocket.

"Rose," he said, "marry-"

The TARDIS gave a tremendous lurch, and they were both knocked sideways and onto the floor as an alarm sounded.

"-rion Tyler," the Doctor continued, as he hurled himself back towards the console and twisted the scanner around to take a look.

Rose was almost completely certain, mostly, that that wasn't what he had originally intended to say.

"Distress signal, locking on," the Doctor explained, trying to operate about fifteen switches at once. "Can you get the..." he nodded his head, pointing with the toe of his Converse toward a yellow button just out of his reach.

"Got it," Rose answered, clinging to the console by one hand to reach the switch.

"Might be a bit of-" the Doctor began, before another jolt sent them both back to the floor. "Turbulence. Sorry," the Doctor concluded in the sudden stillness.

They grinned at each other, and Rose raced him to the doors. This was the life. "Ready to save the day?" she asked.

"As ever!" he replied.

They opened the doors together, to a blast of heat very much like a sauna gone mad.

* * *

_To be continued._

_Was that a proposal? Oh, so close! ;)_

_So, only three chapters to actually get to the start of the episode. I'll need a little time to get the next part in publishable order, but I hope you've enjoyed what you've read so far!_


	4. Preparations and Revelations

_The un-beta'd conclusion:_

* * *

**Chapter 4 - Preparations and Revelations**

The Defense Minister swiped his badge through the scanner, and the doors slid open with a hiss. Inside, two men and a woman in white lab coats turned sharply from their computer monitors to give him their undivided attention.

"Anything?" he asked the room at large.

"Not yet, Mr. Saxon," the woman replied, glancing hastily between her two coworkers before looking him in the eye.

"You have nothing? After how many days, and how many staff?" Mr. Saxon asked, incredulously.

Dozens of technicians were working behind various partitions, but these three had the good fortune to be overseeing the entire operation.

"Not -" one of the men began, pausing briefly when Saxon looked at him. "That is, not nothing, per se." He seemed to gather his courage as he turned back to his computer to bring up a different screen. "We've analyzed Lazarus' research, and we know exactly how the machine worked, and we believe we can improve the efficiency and even achieve the miniaturization you've requested, we just..." he trailed off, looking at the second man for help.

"We just don't know where it went wrong, exactly," the third scientist reported. "We've got to work backwards from his post-experimental DNA to see if it was a problem with the theory or the actual implementation."

Mr. Saxon rolled his eyes dramatically, and held his arms wide, as if encompassing the entire, two-story laboratory space. "Isn't that exactly what all of this expensive, government-funded equipment is supposed to allow you to do?" he asked.

"We're doing it," the woman replied, "it's just... it's going to take some more time."

Mr. Saxon turned on his heel without a word. The aides who had silently followed him into the lab stepped quickly aside and followed him out into the corridor just as silently.

A few feet down the corridor, without a pause in his stride, Mr. Saxon snapped his fingers outside an open doorway. A woman fell in beside him a moment later.

"Good news, Burroughs," Saxon demanded. "Tell me some good news."

Agent Burroughs hesitated only a moment before reporting, "Torchwood is still in place. We had another report of the TARDIS, but agents on the ground failed to confirm the sighting -"

"Who sighted it, then?" Saxon asked.

"LInDA," she replied. When he failed to comment, she continued. "We did intercept a call to Miss Jones, Martha Jones," she clarified, "from the Doctor's companion. It doesn't give us much to go on -"

She cut off as they reached a door labeled "Harold Saxon, Minister of Defense".

Saxon opened the door himself, and was greeted by a simpering, "Good morning, Harry."

He entered the office, accompanied by his staff, but left them by the door to go and embrace his wife. "Dear Lucy," he greeted, before taking a seat behind his desk. He picked up a book that had been placed beside his blotter. "National best-seller," he read. "Congratulations!"

"It's finally being printed on the new editions after five straight weeks," she said. "But it's your biography, Harry," she added, smiling, as she sat on the desk itself. "You deserve the congratulations."

He gave a self-deprecating grin, and leaned in to collect a kiss from his wife. "And the polls?" he asked when they had parted.

He hadn't taken his eyes from Lucy, but one of the hitherto silent aides spoke up. "Landslide majority across all demographics, Mr. Saxon," he said.

Harry patted Lucy's cheek with a smile. "You have the recording, Burroughs?" he asked, turning to the agent.

"Yes, sir," she answered, stepping quickly towards the multimedia bank on the far side of the office.

"Let's hear it," Harry ordered.

Almost immediately, Martha Jones' voice, a little distorted as if coming over a telephone, could be heard in the office.

"Rose! Thank goodness you rang," Martha said. "I wasn't sure if I should call out -"

"Really, really can't talk right now," Rose's voice replied, "but have you got the internet up?"

Harry sat back in his desk chair, fingers steepled.

"Yeah, what's goin' on?" asked Martha.

"Need ya to find a trivia answer, right away," Rose told her.

"Some dictator holdin' the Doctor over a pot of boilin' oil or somethin'?" Martha asked.

"Somethin' like," Rose replied, distractedly.

There was a pause, and then Martha's voice came back on the line. "Alright, go ahead."

"'Kay," Rose began, "'Davey Moore was killed in the ring, then twenty-five years later died in his... blank.'"

"Right, that makes a lot of sense," Martha said, sarcastically. "Lemme see."

A computerized voice was heard in the background. "_Impact in thirty twenty._"

"What was that?" asked Martha.

"Just your typical life-and-death countdown." Rose told her. "Got it yet?"

Another pause, and then, "Got it!" Martha exclaimed. "Two Davey Moores, both American boxers, one died from a brain injury, and the other, twenty-five years later, pinned to the door of his garage by his own car. Nice," she added, in a subdued tone.

"Garage!" shouted Rose. "Thanks! Gotta go!"

"But Rose, wait!" Martha called back. "It's about you an' the Doctor..." a dial tone could be heard. "Bye," Martha added, before the recording shut off.

"As I said, sir," Burroughs supplied as she retrieved the recording, "nothing really to go on, but -"

"But Miss Jones' loyalties obviously still lie with the Doctor," Harry concluded for her. "Mummy's not enough of an influence. I think it's time we had a little chat with her ourselves." Agent Burroughs crossed the office back towards the door, but Harry halted her, adding, "And Burroughs, be sure and include the Torchwood footage."

"Yes, sir," she replied, and exited the office immediately.

Harry waved the rest of his staff towards the door after her. Once he and Lucy were alone, he opened his arms and Lucy moved to sit in his lap.

"Oh, Harry," she told him, laying her head on his chest. "It's all happening just like you promised."

"I told you Archangel was foolproof," he said. "And the TARDIS is almost ready," he told her, stroking her hair. "It won't be long now."

There was a knock on the door. Lucy gave her husband a quick kiss before standing at his side.

"Come in," Harry called.

One of the scientists working on the Lazarus project, the last to speak up at Harry's brief inspection earlier, entered the room. "Mr. Saxon," he greeted, then fell silent, looking between him and Lucy.

Harry prompted him to go on with a wave of his hand. When that failed to work, he asked, "Yes?"

The man shook himself and reported, "It's about the DNA, sir," he explained. "We were, at first, pinning our hopes on the DNA retrieved from Lazarus himself, but in his demise, the Professor's cells rejected whatever characteristics they had imbibed from the transformation, and we realized we needed to somehow analyze a sample from directly after the experiment, but nothing of the sort had been organized at the time, since he had been so confident as to conduct the experiment as a public demonstration -"

"Your point!" Harry interrupted.

"Yes, sir," he said, startled. "Um, the point then, is we discovered that a sample had been analyzed in the computer at Lazarus Laboratories, _after_ the Professor's experiment, but before his transformation was undone." The man stood there, smiling at Harry.

"And?" Harry asked, after the man failed to continue. "Have you been able to locate the error? Have you perfected his research? Or are you standing here wasting both our time -"

"Oh, yes, sir, we did it," the man replied, "at least, it seems we have everything we need now to do it. But I thought you should see this." He stepped forward and placed the laptop computer he had been holding on the desk in front of Harry. "This is a depiction -"

"I know what it is," said Harry, awestruck. "Whose is it?"

"Well," the man admitted, "we don't know. But whoever's DNA this is, they were at the Professor's demonstration. The computer had to separate this sample from his in order to analyze it."

Harry stared at what he saw on the screen, with a look like victory on his face. "You can go," he ordered, without taking his eyes from the display.

"What is it Harry?" Lucy asked after the man had left.

He answered quietly, not really speaking to her. "A human, absorbing the Time Vortex... not quite so human as you thought anymore, my dear Doctor."

* * *

The Doctor closed the doors of the TARDIS, and moved around Rose towards the console, allowing her to trudge up the ramp at her own pace. She had been through quite an ordeal on the sun-scooping cargo transport, but insisted she could walk on her own two feet.

As the Doctor put them into the Vortex, Rose shook her head and said, "I can't believe our lives were just saved by a stupid pub quiz!"

"What's that supposed to mean?" the Doctor asked, coming back to her side to take her hand. If he managed to support her by the arm, she wasn't complaining.

"One of the first trip codes on the ship," Rose explained. "Or I suppose you'd've known whether Elvis or the Beatles had the most number one hits, _pre_-download, then?"

"Offhand, possibly not," the Doctor admitted, steering them around the console.

"Right," said Rose, "well, that just happens to be one of the random answers that stuck in my head from sittin' through Mickey's football matches."

"Lucky," the Doctor observed, paying less attention to what she was saying than to how she was holding herself.

"I'll say," Rose replied. "An' you were absolutely no good for the Davey Moores one. Good thing I had Martha's number." She sprawled beside the Doctor in the captain's chair as soon as they reached it, her eyes quickly falling closed.

The Doctor arranged her head more comfortably against his shoulder. "Well," he asked, "who knew that the crew would be so fascinated with twentieth century minutiae?" When she failed to respond, the Doctor asked, "Rose?"

She was sound asleep.

He checked her over briefly, amazed that she didn't show any signs of sickness, only of exhaustion. He stood, hesitating by the chair. He could take her straight to the med bay, but she would be much more comfortable in her own bed. She didn't have a fever or any other symptoms. He could run tests later.

She shifted slightly, and the Doctor caught her before she could fall across the seat. He picked her up in his arms without waking her, and that decided him. He carried her straight to her room, and laid her in her bed.

He managed to get her trainers off after a brief struggle with the laces. The covers were no problem, since Rose had neglected to make her bed that morning. The Doctor tucked her in, then sat beside her, scanning her with the sonic screwdriver.

Nothing.

Nothing detectible, he mentally added, still worried.

He kissed her forehead, then quietly slipped out of the room.

"Tea," he said to himself in the corridor, spurring himself into action and stepping off towards the kitchen.

The Doctor tried not to think about what had just happened on the ship, busying himself with the tea and selecting diagnostic equipment from the med bay, but his mind was too full of hypotheses and simple fears.

Rose had been possessed by a living sun.

He had no idea how she had survived so (apparently) unaffected. He was immensely grateful that she had, but still, he worried.

And he couldn't help the comparison in his mind to Bad Wolf, which left him wondering if maybe that experience had wrought some change he hadn't detected.

The Doctor was back at her door almost before he realized it. Calming himself, forcing himself to approach the matter rationally and scientifically, he entered and placed the tray of tea and medical supplies on her bedside table.

She stirred slightly, smiling once she had opened her eyes and seen him. She stretched, then took in her surroundings. "Sorry," she said, "guess I was a little tired," she admitted.

At least a third of the Doctor's fears were calmed just by seeing her again, and he helped her into a sitting position. "Here you go," he said, handing her the tea. "Just relax," he added, efficiently running each of the devices over her in turn, examining her while she sipped her drink.

Most of the analysis would have to be done in the med bay, but the Doctor wasn't getting any negative indications. He took a small blood sample, set the last device down on the tray, and sat beside Rose on the bed, just watching her.

She finished her tea, then handed him the cup. "I'm fine," she told him, laying her hand over his as he set the cup down on the tray for her.

The Doctor gave her a small smile. "I know," he said. "But you do need some rest," he told her "And food!" he suddenly realized, springing to his feet. "You must be starved; you hardly touched your breakfast."

Rose grinned at him. "I was a little distracted."

"Right," the Doctor grinned back, then shook himself. "I'll go get food," he declared, picking up the tray. "And you rest," he instructed, heading back towards her door. "And we'll take things a little easy for a while... ah, I never did take you to the banana groves at Villengard, did I?" She shook her head. "That's good. That'll be nice and relaxing, and secluded, and, well, yes, we'll do that." He wasn't about to say "romantic" aloud. Especially since he wasn't entirely sure she would agree.

"Yes, Doctor," Rose told him, lying back down under her blankets, "we'll do that."

He watched her close her eyes, then quietly shut the door.

The Doctor headed straight back to the med bay, much relieved by his visit, but still needing to make sure that Rose was one hundred percent unaffected. He processed the blood sample, checking for the usual, and decided to run a DNA analysis as well. Just as the DNA results displayed on the screen, he realized he still needed to go and get Rose's food.

Much like just after his regeneration, the Doctor was too relieved and too distracted to pay attention to a small anomaly in Rose's DNA that had become rather more pronounced after their latest adventure.

* * *

"Comfy?" Ms. Burroughs asked.

Martha squirmed a bit in the metal folding chair, but didn't complain. "Yeah, fine," she said. "Now for the hundredth time, what's this about?"

The other woman dimmed the lights, then stood aside as a monitor flickered to life. "This footage was taken from the Canary Wharf incident," she explained. "Do you recognize this man?"

Rose and the Doctor had said they'd been at Canary Wharf, so it was no surprise to Martha when what seemed to be a security tape displayed the Doctor, dressed in his typical pinstriped suit, in the middle of a large, white office.

Martha was about to deny any knowledge, just for kicks, when she recognized the woman working at the computer terminal in front of the Doctor. She watched as he raised the sonic screwdriver to Adeola's temple, then saw her cousin collapse.

They'd always looked so similar, for cousins.

It was like watching herself being killed by the Doctor.

Another woman in the film approached and pulled off Adeola's earpiece, recoiling in obvious horror. Martha felt the sickening certainty that she'd just pulled out Adeola's brains.

"Yeah, maybe," Martha replied at last, reeling.

* * *

_The end._

_I know I made quick work of the episode itself, but the original just never really appealed to me, and I thought this way would be more fun. Think of it as a trade-off for "Blink" since that's going to have so much more of the Doctor (and Rose!) in it. _

_In the meantime, stay tuned for... "Human Nature"_


End file.
